


Wasted

by Hashtagmavin



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Drunken sex, Long Distance Relationships, Lots of implied sex (but no actual smut because I am a weakling), Lots of time jumps, M/M, Minor hints of sexting, One night stands (technically? But not really?), Text messaging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:11:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2860265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hashtagmavin/pseuds/Hashtagmavin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Successful one night stands are supposed to consist of a very few, but crucial, things. Alcohol, crazy parties, bad decisions, wild mindblowing sex, hangovers and regret in the morning, leaving before the other wakes up, and then never seeing each other again. Maybe Michael and Gavin just didn’t get the memo about that last part.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wasted

**Author's Note:**

> This monster is finally done, and I worked so hard to get in finished in time to post for Christmas, despite having parts of it written since May! I’m quite proud of myself even though it turned out to be absolute garbage! Based off of the song Wasted by Tiesto.

Michael Jones is known to be something of a social butterfly.

Ever since getting his job at Rooster Teeth, over two months ago, he’s met and befriended every single person employed by and associated with the company. He prides himself on the fact that he’s an annoying asshole, but a lovable one.

If it weren’t for his excessive talking and ability to make a joke or conversation about anything, he probably wouldn’t even have this job to begin with.

When he first started working here, he’d expected it to be the complete opposite of what it was. What legitimate work place would allow him to get paid for playing video games and having fun with friends?

Apparently, Rooster Teeth would.

Sure, there are boring or frustrating parts of the job, parts that the audience don’t see or are oblivious too, but it’s all worth it just to do the fun stuff. To be able to wake up every morning excited to go to work.

Even his free time is spent having the most fun possible. Both work and leisure have mixed into one big amazing clump that makes up the joy that his life currently is.

For example, right now, he’s at one of Burnie’s crazy parties.

His boss doesn’t throw them very often, in fact this one is just to celebrate the purchase of his new house, which is probably a little silly because imagine the mess he’ll have to clean up tomorrow. But, whatever, Michael doesn’t care. If Burnie wants to break in his new house with loud music, alcohol, and dozens of drunk people, then who is Michael to stop him?

"Michael!" he hears Lindsay scream at him from the kitchen, "Come do shots with us!"

He’s happy to oblige.

Among the music, he can hear conversations and laughter. He’s only vaguely aware of JJ going around with a camera, shooting a new episode of the RT Recap. If it comes out as well as this party is, then it’ll be the best recap yet.

“ _Woo!_ " People are screaming constantly with grins plastered on their faces, feeding other more shots as they do their own.

Michael has no idea how many he’s had tonight, but it’s quite clear to both himself and those around him that he’s drunk right now. Maybe a little too drunk for a Sunday night, but who really cares. These are his co-workers that he’s drinking with, they’re all going to be in the same place and predicament as he is tomorrow.

"Dance with me!" Barbara yells at him, pulling him away from shots with Lindsay and into the living room where the stereos are. Nobody else is actually dancing, but that doesn’t stop them anyways.

They both stand up on Burnie’s new coffee table, their limbs are shaking in such a way that nobody would really consider it to be dancing. But everybody else in the room still cheers them on with laughter and the raise of their own drinks.

Her blonde hair swishes back and forth, their hands entwined as they jump around erratically, just laughing and singing along to the music like the drunken idiots that they are.

Yeah, parties are fun. Even though everything is happening in such a quick blur, it’s a lot more than he ever would have expected it to be. The headache he’s going to have tomorrow is going to be worth it.

Barbara stops dancing suddenly, catching somebody’s eyes from across the room and she steps off of the coffee table with much more grace than a drunk woman in heels should be capable of.

"Gavin! Gavin, come over here and see me, you asshole!" she screams, cupping her hands around her mouth. She turns back to Michael and holds out a hand to him, "You’re my dancing buddy, you have to come too."

Her logic doesn’t make any sense, but it doesn’t matter to either of them at this point. Plus, he wants to see who’s so important that their very presence has stopped Barbara from dancing.

Even though the room is filled with people, his brain is somehow able to pinpoint the exact person that Barbara is leading them too. This “Gavin” guy is waving frantically at his blonde friend, who seems just as enthused at the reunion.

The only physical features that really stick out to him are his messy light brown hair, slender frame, and larger-than-average nose. Overall, he’s attractive. It sends flustered feelings and hums to the back of his brain, and he instantly feels guilty for the dirty thoughts that come to mind when he studies the man.

Once they reach him, Barbara lets go of Michael’s hand to throw her arms around Gavin’s neck, pulling him into a tight hug.

"I’ve missed you!" she squeals, only pulling away from a moment to pull him back into a hug again.

"I’ve missed you too!" he states, his eyes closed from the pain of her squeezing him a little too hard.

Michael laughs at her excitement, and the noise causes the boy to open his eyes and acknowledge him. His grin fades into a small smile and the smallest hint of a blush colors his cheeks.

To avoid any awkwardness, Gavin quickly detaches himself from Barbara, laughing when she just lets out a sigh of contentedness.

"It’s been so long," he says, "It feels like I haven’t seen you in ages!"

They continue to speak to one another, and Michael only interrupts when he makes a startling discovery.

He’s British.

It seems to be the only thing that his drunk brain can comprehend at this moment, so of course it’s all he’s able to comment on.

"You’re British," he states dumbly, as though it’s an intelligent observation.

The two look over at him, and Gavin smirks, “And  _you’re_  Rage Quit.”

It’s only then that Michael actually recognizes him. Before even joining the company, he’s known of Gavin. The guy that started making those slow motion videos on youtube with his friend Dan. He’d already had the attention of Rooster Teeth beforehand, even directing a season of Red vs. Blue, but now he’s highly known in the RT community.

Barbara laughs as she seems to finally remember Michael’s presence and snaps into introduction mode, gesturing to each of them as she speaks. “Michael, you’ve met Gavin before, right?”

"Nope," he shakes his head, he and the boy still not breaking eye contact, "Can’t say that I have. Nice to meet you."

"Same here," Gavin says, a genuine smile on his face as he nods his head.

“ _Well_ ,” Barbara says pointedly, “Introduce yourselves then!”

"Uh, I’m Michael Jones."

"Gavin Free."

Michael sticks out his hand to shake, but he doesn’t take it, instead reaching forward and pulling both he and Barbara into a hug so tight that it’s almost painful.

"Barbara!" a voice rings out from behind him, and they all turn to see Arryn calling for her.

"Oh, I’m coming!" the blonde yells back, taking a step away from them before turning back. "Talk, get acquainted, become friends," she instructs simply, with a knowing grin towards Gavin, before running off to join her friend.

They both laugh at her, knowing that parties are easily Barbara’s favorite thing and she can’t help bouncing back and forth to people when she’s had a few drinks in her.

"Hi," Michael says, laughing at their strange and drunken introduction with one another. Now that they’re left alone, he doesn’t want this to turn into an awkward encounter just because they don’t know one another. Michael’s sociable, he has no trouble hanging out with somebody he doesn’t know.

"Hello," Gavin smirks, "So, I’m right in assuming that you’re the guy who does all of those  _screaming-at-games-he’s-terrible-at_  videos, right?”

"Yeah, that would be me. In all of my angry glory. And you’re the Slomoguy?"

"Yup!"

"What are you doing here? I thought you lived in England or something?"

"I flew out around two days ago. Just Rooster Teeth business stuff," he explains, "Burnie wanted me to voice a small character in Red vs. Blue again, and I definitely wasn’t going to pass up that opportunity."

"So you flew all the way from England?"

"Yeah, but I’m only here for a short while. In fact, my plane leaves tomorrow."

"Dude, you’re getting on a plane  _tomorrow_? After one of  _Burnie’s_  parties? I don’t envy you.”

Gavin laughs, “Yeah, I’ve only been here for about a half an hour and I’ve had so many shots that there’s no way I’ll be waking up without a headache tomorrow.”

"Were you in the kitchen by any chance?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Was there a red headed girl in there feeding you as many shots as she could pour?"

He nods, “Lindsay right?”

"Yeah, she’s pretty enthused about stuff like that. It’s easy to get drunk when she’s shoving as many drinks as she can into your hands and cheering for you to drink up. But, speaking of drinks," he looks back to the kitchen just in time to see Lindsay and Burnie screaming excitedly about something, "How about you and I go get some more?"

"Yeah," Gavin grins, "I’d like that."

*

The rest of the night is practically a blur.

It’s filled with more shots, loud music, and Gavin.

 _A lot_ of Gavin.

For the entire night, the two of them are glued to one anothers sides as though they’ve been best friends for years. Scratch that, as if they’ve been  _lovers_ for years, if the close proximity and drunken make-outs are any indication.

In the few hours that they’ve spent partying together, both are sure that they’ve never kissed anybody else more times than they’ve kissed each other tonight.

They’ve probably set a new world record.

Every room they’ve went into would eventually be filled with choruses of “ _Get a room!_ " or " _Woo! Get some!_ ”

Even now as they stand on the kitchen table together with shots in their hands, Michael is still not sick of Gavin’s laughter in his ear. Both of their voices so much louder than they believe, but it’s drowned out enough by the loud music not to disturb anybody. It echoes throughout the entire house, making almost as much noise as the occupants. Michael wonders how they haven’t received any noise complaints yet, but it’s the least of his worries. He’s happy right now as long as he’s got a drink in his hand and Gavin under his arm.

It’s a great feeling. Like you’re on top of the world. When he’s drunk like this, he doesn’t understand how he could ever be unhappy. With  _anything_.

The floaty feeling in his head just makes him want to down another drink to keep it there. He’s never been a big drinker, he doesn’t even like alcohol that much, but he sure does like being drunk. Does anybody actually like the taste of alcohol anyways? Maybe the companies should do something about that.

His own internal thought process is being influenced now, maybe that’s a bad sign, but he still clinks his drink against Gavin’s and they down them together.

"WOOO!" They scream out, their empty glasses raised to the air in celebration. Everybody cheers along with them, clearly just as intoxicated.

Gavin turns and says something to him, but it’s impossible to hear over the loud party guests.

"What?!" he yells, his eyebrows scrunched together as he moves closer.

Gavin cups a hand around his ear, leaning in close enough for Michael to take advantage of the limited space and wrap an arm around his waist. “I said,  _how about we go some place quieter_?”

Michael doesn’t even comment on how loudly he’d just yelled, too preoccupied with the feeling of Gavin now gently biting at his ear lobe before moving down to his neck.

"Okay."

*

They practically burst through the door, stumbling to catch their footing and avoid a meeting with the floor.

It’s a small room, with just enough light flooding in from the hallway to illuminate it. There’s a queen sized bed, a dresser, and a potted plant of some kind.

"This must be the spare room," Gavin states, making quick note of the tidily made bed and simple decor.

"Well," Michael nods, reaching forward to pull the guy’s face towards his own, "How about we make good use of it?"

The grin and enthusiastic nod is all the okay he needs before connecting their lips together, for what must be the millionth time that night.

He wouldn’t even be able to tell you how much passed between them making out while standing in front of the door, and then making out while Gavin lays ontop of him on the bed.

Michael thrusts sharply up against him, no longer able to contain his moans as Gavin’s own vibrate against his mouth and send spikes of pleasure throughout his body.

The alcohol is still clouding his brain, still keeping him of the verge of drunkenness, but he can’t really find it within himself to complain. Especially when he’s deep in the mouth of this British guy that’s he can’t even remember the name of anymore. He’ll probably regret this in the morning, but hey, it’s been a while since he’s had a good lay, and this guy is extremely attractive. Why not just let his drunken hormones get the best of him, and fuck this stranger into a mattress for the night?

They’re both too wasted to really think through the consequences, but Michael can’t imagine their decisions being much clearer when sober either. Anybody who allows themselves to get this drunk at a Rooster Teeth crew party is just begging for an interesting night. Whether it be having your face drawn on with permanent marker, being made a fool out of on camera, or having a rousing night of fun with a stranger, it’s happened to everyone at some point. No shame in a few one night stands, what’s the harm? It isn’t like they’re going to get pregnant.

The guy pulls away from him just moments before he feels like he’s going to tip over the edge. He suppresses the urge to groan in annoyance though when a trail of sweet kisses begin trailing across his jaw line.

The guy’s face appears in front of him then, having removed his shirt entirely now with drunken sloppiness. Michael just laughs, reaching his hands forward to pull his face to his and presses an equally sloppy kiss to his mouth. It quickly stems into a wet make-out session though, and Michael’s extremely aware of the fact that he’s the one with more clothes on.

"What’s your name again?" The guy mumbles, not even pulling away to break the contact of their lips.

Michael almost snorts.

And they say romance is dead.

Then again, he also doesn’t remember the guys name, at least he wasn’t going to try and bitch his way through this, pretending to know his name (or literally anything about him.) Commenting on how stupid the guy is for forgetting, is quite hypocritical on his behalf. Besides, when they’re this drunk and pumped up on the pleasure and promise of sex, it’s a surprise they haven’t yet forgotten their _own_  names yet.

"Michael."

The guy leans away from him, his legs still straddling his hips in a way that he would imagine only ever finding attractive if he were with a girl. Then again, its been a while since he’s been with a guy, and he’s forgotten how comfortably pleasurable and similar it is.

Goddamn, if he doesn’t stop staring at him like this, they are going to fucking _ruin_  this bed tonight.

"I’m Gavin, just in case you forgot," he supplies helpfully, before leaning forward to kiss again.

The time Michael does snort, and then holds up a hand so that the only action he receives is a dry palm. “Of course, I didn’t forget.  _I’m_  a gentleman,” he fibs, considering himself to be doing a rather well job at it too.

Gavin just quirks his lip, clearly not believing it for a second, but continues on with the activities regardless. Maybe if he were a little more sober he’d continue on with this playful argument, but right now his main concern is removing every single article of clothing between them.

He reaches forward to strip off his shirt, Michael assisting as best as he can under the circumstance. He briefly recognizes it as the orange grifball shirt that had gone on sale in the store only last week. Well, either he really does work for Rooster Teeth, or he’s just a big fan. Michael doesn’t want to waste brain power trying to think back to the introduction he was given upon first meeting the guy.

"Get your fucking clothes off," Michael grins, reaching to unbutton his jeans for him.

"You’re quite bossy for a stranger," Gavin smirks.

"You love it."

"I love  _you_.”

"No, I love  _you_.”

It doesn’t take long for the jeans to be thrown across the room, and the thought of it completely leaves Michael’s mind when a pair of lips attach themselves to his neck.

*

Michael fades slowly into consciousness the next morning, only peeking open his eyes when he accepts that sleep is no longer going to return to him.

As soon as the sliver of light, that’s peeking through the curtains and somehow lighting up the full room, enters his eyes, he squeezes them shut again. The headache is immediate and he decides that he no longer wants to wake up after all.

It’s too late to fall back asleep though, so instead he rolls over onto his stomach and buries his face into a pillow.

One deep inhale, and headache be damned.

He shoots up, lifting his entire body from the bed and forcing his face away from the safety and comfort that came with the dark sheeted pillows. He feels like he’d just inhaled every memory of last night, which is now running through his mind without any pauses. As though a quick fast forward of every decision he’d made with the boy he’d just gotten the full scent of.

Drinking with him, laughing with him, going somewhere more private with him, making out with him, and… Okay, maybe not a moment of his life that he’s most proud of.

He’d woken up not remembering anything, but as soon as he’d gotten a fresh inhale of something that was so unmistakably Gavin, the boy he’d rolled around in bed sheets with last night, the memories came flooding back.

Not so much the actual party itself, but the ‘rolling-around-in-bed-sheets’ moments themselves. And as Michael takes this moment, where he’s knelt down on the bed in Burnie’s spare bedroom, to look around, he realizes that the boy in question is nowhere to be seen.

Which isn’t surprising. Michael remembers him as being attractive at least, but he can’t exactly place a coherent thought at the moment. His head is still pounding, he’s still extremely tired, and he’s feeling a lot of self-regret over getting intoxicated enough to have a one night stand with a pretty face. Which hasn’t happened since his high school days.

Michael wouldn’t consider his own drunken antics to be out of control. Getting drunk and then sleeping with a stranger is something that high school or college students do after a wild house party. Not a man with a (arguably) serious job after drinking a little too much at his boss’s new-house party.

Sadly, his regret for his decisions does not take away the pounding in his head. He reaches up to run a hand through his hair, which is, undoubtedly, a huge mess of tangled curls.

Is this how people usually feel after a one-night-stand leaves before they wake up?

He doesn’t even know the guy for Christs sake. All Michael can really remember now is his name, appearance, and how good he was in bed. Literally the  _only_ things that were learned about him last night.

He runs his fingers through his hair once more, and then eventually over his face, trying to rub the sleepiness and overall feeling of crap from his system. Not a great way to start a Monday morning.

Then, to make matters worse, his phone begins buzzing. Arching a brow, he turns to see that it’s resting on the bedside table, next to his clothes, which are neatly folded up. Strange. As Michael crawls over to answer it, he sees that on top of his clothing is folded up piece of paper.

Ignoring his phone, regardless of the message preview sent from a certain contact named ‘Geoff Ramsey,’ he reaches for the note instead and quickly unfolds it.

_Good morning!_

_So, I know what you’re thinking, this totally looks like I just got up before the sun rose and intentionally ditched you. Which is sort of correct, but not because I wanted to! Yesterday was my last night in America and my plane home is leaving this morning at 9:00AM. So, as you can see, I can’t stay here to convince you that this wasn’t a one night stand, because by the time you read this I’ll probably be on a plane back to England._

_Hope you don’t mind that I folded up your clothes for you, figured you’d want to find them as quickly as possibly when waking up naked in your bosses spare bedroom. Also, took your phone out of your jeans pocket and turned it on silent. Didn’t want you to wake up to a long and obnoxious ringtone, especially if your hangover is as bad as mine._

_I had fun last night, even if we were both too drunk to remember each others names. I actually wouldn’t mind doing it again. As long as you’re up for it, of course._

_Sorry again for just leaving you like this, I really wish I didn’t have to. Just to prove to you that I’m not some lying sleaze, he’s my cell number. Text me whenever. Also, sorry for leaving you a note that’s the length of a novel._

_-Gavin Free_

Even if he didn’t leave his number at the bottom of the note, getting a hold of him wouldn’t have been difficult anyways. They work for the same company. He probably has an AIM, Twitter, or email account that Michael could easily find just by asking their mutual friends. Which, according to last night, appears to be everybody. Why was yesterday the first time he’s ever met Gavin if he’s such a close friend?

Oh well, Michael is clearly closest with him now. He did bang the guy after all, even if it was a mess of tangled limbs, sloppy make-outs, and drunken moans.

And he has to admit, what he does actually remember of Gavin is all quite positive. His drunken self has the tendency to notice all of the tiny and insignificant things (clearly not putting any of that brain power into self control), so he finds himself recalling a lot of silly unimportant things about the boy he ruined bed sheets with last night.

Like his natural bed head air style that seemed to get messier as the night continued on. It didn’t give him the overall appearance of slob though, it made him look more like a less buff Abercrombie and Fitch model that just rolled out of bed. Like his hair was purposely styled to look like a disheveled mess.

He remembers Gavin pressing soft kisses to the inside of his wrist, for no particular reason. But it sent tingles of comfort throughout Michael’s body, and left him with the impression of care. Such sweet and gentle kisses are never pressed anywhere other than the mouth on drunken one night stands.

He remembers the way their mouths seem to be an endless black hole for shots. The types of alcohol often differing between sweet, fruity, sour, or bitter enough to make their faces scrunch up in disgust. But they’d always soften when the other would look at them, hold their hands against the side of their face, and then pull them in for another kiss.

How many kisses did he and Gavin share last night? Probably more than he could count.  _Definitely_  more than the amount of shots they’d taken. Combined. He can still taste Gavin’s alcohol soaked lips being pressed against his, sometimes chaste and gentle, but other times rough and desperate.

After knowing each other for one drunken night, Michael feels as though he and Gavin have just started something.

He saves the name into his phone under “Gavin Free,” but he knows that isn’t gonna stick.

*

"Heyo, Michael Jones!" He’s greeted with as soon as he walks down the stairs.

He rubs the side of his face, still feeling disgusting from last nights partying, and greets the room with a mumbled groan paired with the wave of his hand.

The house is, unsurprisingly, a mess. Beer bottles and garbage still scattered around, furniture moved from its original place. It doesn’t look as bad as Michael assumed it would though for the amount of people that were there yesterday. Now it’s empty, aside from the one person who greeted him.

Ashley is leaning against the kitchen island, a bowl of cereal in front of her and a smug grin on her face, looking surprisingly chipper for being awake at 10AM after such a wild night. She’s still sporting a pair of pajama shorts and an old RT shirt, that looks more like it belongs to Burnie, so maybe she’s only just awoken too.

"Want some breakfast?" She asks, reaching over to shake the still open box of cornflakes.

"If you wouldn’t mind," he responds, pulling out one of the chairs so that he can sit across from her.

She must have been expecting him, because she pours the cereal into an empty bowl she’d had beside her, which already has a spoon in it. “So, did you have fun at the party last night?”

He glares up at her, “What do you know?”

She snickers as she opens the fridge to get him some milk, “I know that when I woke up, Burnie informed me that we had unknowingly had a sleepover last night with two incredibly drunk and naked co-workers.”

Michael just groans, only stopping to give her a thank you when she finishes pouring the milk for him.

"So, I repeat my question, did you have a fun night?"

"Shut up."

"Oh please," she smirks, "I only know that you slept with Gavin, I don’t know every single detail."

He raises an eyebrow at her, “Your point?”

"I’d like to," she shrugs, attempting to seem nonchalant as she prys for gossip. "You and Gavin hooking up after only meeting each other last night? Of course I’m curious."

"I wouldn’t be able to tell you much. I can barely remember anything about the party, although I do recall spending a lot of it with Gavin at my side."

"And then you spent a lot of it with him  _under_  you in our spare bedroom, right?” She grins.

He glares at her before admitting a reluctant, “Yeah, there was a lot of that.”

She smirks again, and Michael’s surprised it isn’t permanently etched onto her face at this point on their conversation. Desiring a change in subject, he figures that bringing up the missing presence of her boyfriend may save him from answering any embarrassing questions. “Where’s Burnie?”

She raises a brow, lowering the cereal bowl she’d raised to drink the remaining milk from. After swallowing down a mouthful, she brings up her arm to wipe at the remaining liquid on her upper lip. “You do realize that it’s a Monday, right?”

"Yeah, so?"

"Everybody’s at work."

He remembers the ignored text messages from Geoff earlier. “Fuck.”

*

It’s only once Michael’s gotten home after a long day of getting scolded by Geoff for being late and not answering his calls, and recording two Rage Quits in a row, that he finally allows himself to relax.

He’s been tense all day, the constant thoughts of last night and the boy accompanying him. Throughout the entire day, he’d hear Gavin’s name being mentioned by somebody, and he’d tense up or look around thinking that the guy was around.

Maybe he isn’t good with the whole ‘one night stand’ business. Or, whatever you call a one night stand that ends with wanting to see one another again at some point in the future. According to the note Gavin left, which has been folded up in his jean pocket all day, he doesn’t want Michael to think its a one night stand at all. But it’s kind of hard to not think that when you wake up to an empty bed and a note, regardless of it’s contents.

He spends a few moments pacing his living room, his phone clenched tightly in his hand as it displays Gavin’s contact information. Getting himself worked up over this is stupid, but its impossible to feign nonchalance.

Calling is out of the question. Michael would deny until blue in the face that he’s nervous (or, at least, reluctant and unsure), but that doesn’t mean he trusts himself to not stutter or stumble over words when having a verbal conversation with the guy.

Not to mention, he’d probably react to hearing that British accent again a little more than he would hope.

In the end, he settles on a text message. Gavin did say to text him after all, and at least this way he’d be able to keep up a cool and casual facade.

 **Michael Jones:** Hello?

It’s only moments before he gets a response.

 **Gavin Free:** Hi, who’s this?

 **Michael Jones:** Michael Jones. We sort of banged each other mercilessly last night.

 **Gavin Free:**  Ah, yes! I definitely remember that! Haha, I was starting to get worried that you wouldn’t contact me.

 **Michael Jones:**  Well, you did say that it “wasn’t a one night stand” and since you’re involved with Rooster Teeth, we’re probably gonna be seeing a lot of each other

 **Gavin Free:**  True, and I have no qualms about seeing you again

 **Michael Jones:** Are you hitting on me?

 **Gavin Free:** Well, I did blow you last night, amongst other things, so is it really that much of a shock?

 **Michael Jones:**  No, just confirming. You have to remember that we literally know nothing about one another.

 **Gavin Free:** I did get fairly well acquainted with your dick

 **Michael Jones:** I don’t think that counts

 **Gavin Free:** Let’s get acquainted then! With more than just our genitals. Not that I wouldn’t be down for that if another opportunity arose

 **Michael Jones:** Was that a fucking pun?

 **Gavin Free:**  …Maybe.

 **Michael Jones:** God, you’re so fucking lame.

 **Gavin Free:**  Just a little, but I’ve seen the Achievement Hunter videos so I know that you’re pretty lame too.

 **Michael Jones:** I’ve seen the Slomoguys videos and I’m pretty sure that you’re lamer

 **Gavin Free:** How about we’re both lame?

 **Michael Jones:** You’re just saying that because I one-upped you with the Slomoguys thing

 **Gavin Free:** No, I just don’t want to bicker over something as silly as “who’s lamer” when we’re supposed to be getting to know one another after a mind blowing one night stand

 **Michael Jones:** Mind blowing huh?

 **Gavin Free:** Well, I certainly enjoyed it

 **Michael Jones:**  Don’t get your knickers in a twist, I quite enjoyed myself as well.

 **Gavin Free:** How much do you remember?

 **Michael Jones:**  Bits and pieces, mainly just the good stuff though

 **Gavin Free:** Our adventures in the bed sheets?

 **Michael Jones:** Yes

 **Gavin Free:**  Okay, good. Same.

 **Michael Jones:**  How is that good?

 **Gavin Free:** Because I was worried I might have done something really embarrassing in front of you last night that I don’t remember.

 **Michael Jones:**  If you did I don’t recall. Plus, I probably did something equally as embarrassing as well. So, we’re probably even.

 **Gavin Free:**  Perfect. We can put it behind us and start anew.

 **Michael Jones:**  We haven’t even started at all yet.

 **Gavin Free:** Then now’s the perfect time to do so. Hi, I’m Gavin free.

 **Michael Jones:** Michael Jones. You’re a huge loser.

 **Gavin Free:**  We’re not getting into this again.

 **Michael Jones:** Fine. So, all I really know about you is name and dick size.

 **Gavin Free:** My favorite color is green.

 **Michael Jones:** Great. I’ll put that in the file.

 **Gavin Free:**  What’s your favorite color?

 **Michael Jones:**  Blue.

 **Gavin Free:** Do you want to have sex again?

 **Michael Jones:** That was abrupt.

 **Gavin Free:** I know, but I figured it would be easier to just outright ask instead of beating around the bush. We’ve already slept together once, but I have no idea what I did to fool you into agreeing to that.

 **Michael Jones:** Did you fool me into sex with you?

 **Gavin Free:**  I’m assuming, because you’re bloody gorgeous.

 **Michael Jones:**  Am I?

 **Gavin Free:**  Yes, and you ask a lot of questions.

 **Michael Jones:** You just outright asked if we were going to bang again, I think I should be able to ask all the questions I want.

 **Gavin Free:** Fair point.

 **Michael Jones:** So I’m “bloody gorgeous,” huh?

Gavin Free: Little bit. You’re well attractive, mate. Not exactly somebody I’d expect to wake up next to after being a drunken mess the night before.

 **Michael Jones:** To be fair, I was an equally drunken mess, and you are much higher than me on the attractiveness scale. You’ve got that whole… Gay European look going for you. The messy boy band hair and skinny jeans, making stupid videos where you flip your hair and set shit on fire. You’re basically the wet dream of every teenage girl with a YouTube account.

 **Gavin Free:** Really?

 **Michael Jones:** Oh yeah, dude. Lindsay’s been pestering me for information all day about how sleeping with you was like.

 **Gavin Free:**  And what’d you say?

 **Michael Jones:** I said however good you looked to be with a camera in videos, you were ten times that in bed.

 **Gavin Free:** Well, however bad you are at video games in Rage Quit, you’re ten times the opposite of that in bed.

 **Michael Jones:**  Thanks. I tell you that you’re good in bed and with a camera, and you retort by telling me that I’m good in bed and complete shit at video games.

 **Gavin Free:** To be fair, I’m shit at video games too. Just ask Geoff.

 **Michael Jones:** Next time we see one another in person, we’ll have to play video games together.

 **Gavin Free:**  Sounds good! Prepare to lose though.

 **Michael Jones:** You just said you were bad at them.

 **Gavin Free:** Yeah, but I’m probably better than you.

 **Michael Jones:** Oh really? Are you willing to bet on that?

 **Gavin Free:**  100 dollars says that I’ll win in whatever game we play.

 **Michael Jones:**  Perfect. Hope you’re ready to lose 100 dollars.

 **Gavin Free:** Can we do this after we’ve had sex again though?

 **Michael Jones:** I still haven’t answered you on if we’re even going to have sex again or not, but yes. But, let’s focus on actually meeting one another first.

 **Gavin Free:**  We have met though.

 **Michael Jones:** While we were both drunk off our asses, yes. But, an actual sober encounter would be more beneficial. One where I actually remember everything involved.

 **Michael Jones:** I still only remember bits and pieces.

 **Gavin Free:**  Like, the fact that we said that we loved each other?

 **Michael Jones:** Yeah. Pretty weird.

 **Gavin Free:**  We’re love sluts.

Michael smirks, and changes Gavin’s name to “Love Slut” in his phone.

 **Love Slut:**  Next time I come to America, we’ll have that sober encounter.

 **Michael Jones:**  Scouts honor?

 **Love Slut:**  Hahaha, yes, scouts honor

By the time Michael turns off his phone for the night, he’s already in bed and prepared to fall asleep with thoughts of Gavin Free swirling around in his brain.

It took only moments for their text conversation to turn friendly and playful, as though they’d been friends for years and not previously drunken sexual partners. All of that unnecessary worry beforehand for nothing.

***

Next week, the “ _Burnie’s New-House Party RT Recap_ " is uploaded to the Rooster Teeth Youtube channel.

Michael face is filled with shame as soon as the video loads. He isn’t even on the screen yet, and he already knows that this is going to be awful and embarrassing.

The video shows the house party at Burnie’s last week. The loud music and drunken party guests are unmistakable. Between shots of giving the audience a view of how wild the party really was, they stop on certain co-workers and ask them to recite what videos have come out this week.

Michael has to admit, watching Lindsay and Burnie talk about the podcast between shots is quite entertaining. It appears they both took this party opportunity to get as plastered as possible, their hangovers were probably worse than his. How the hell did Burnie manage to get up for work so early?

"And now onto Achievement Hunter!" Barbara yells into the camera, grinning wildly before turning back to dancing with Arryn.

Any thoughts on how ridiculous the others look are put to a halt when he and Gavin appear on the screen.

They’re stood in front of the camera, practically hanging off each other, both to show affection and to keep balance. It doesn’t do them any good though, as they’re both appear to be very unsteady on their feet at the moment. They both sway back and forth drunkenly, and it’s not to the beat of the music that plays in the background.

They’re smiling goofily into the camera as they listen to the instructions that Blaine is giving them behind the camera. But as he tells them what to say, it doesn’t appear to stick in their heads.

"This week on Rage Quit," Michael states, clearly reading off the words from something off-camera. Gavin spends this time laughing at him, or picking at his face, trying to distract him or make him laugh. It’s clearly working.

Michael cringes at his own drunken slurred words. Practically fighting the urge to turn the video off as his past-self points to the camera with his drink and spills a quarter of it in the process.

"This guy," Gavin gestures to the boy his arms are currently wrapped around, "Gets mad at a whole  _load_  of stuff.”

"And I’ll give you a fucking hint of what will happen  _next_  week,” Michael says, “The same fucking thing!”

As he speaks, Gavin has already turned to him and begun biting and/or sucking on his neck. It’s hard to tell in the video. At least it explains some of the hickies he’d woken up with the next night.

It takes a shove of his shoulder from somebody off camera for him to stop, and continue his job.

He picks up where Michael left off, finishing off the list of videos that have been posted this week. His words are hardly understandable, and Michael thinks they probably need to give a raise to the person that managed to subtitle that part of the video.

Things get worse though when they finish the segment, and Barbara jumps into the shot demanding that they kiss. It doesn’t take anymore convincing than that, because only seconds later, he and Gavin are attached to one another and sucking face like there’s no tomorrow. Probably not their first kiss of the night, and definitely not their last, but the cheers that erupted from the party guests are enough to fill Michael will shame now.

They aren’t even making out attractively. It’s much too obvious that they’re incredibly intoxicated. It actually makes Michael confused to how his hangover wasn’t worse the day after if he was this bad.

Goddamn, he and Gavin are idiots.

He doesn’t pay attention to the rest of the video, and spends it texting Gavin and laughing about how ridiculous they look on a video that already has over 6,000 views.

For the next two weeks, he and Gavin’s little show is the most discussed topic on any form of social media the company is a part of.

***

Four months later, they meet again.

At another party, smaller this time, but they’re just as drunk as before.

"Gavin!" Michael cries, immediately upon setting eyes on the boy.

There he is, in all of his lanky British glory. Wearing a purple and white striped polo shirt and a pair of dark skinny jeans matched only with the converse he’s wearing. Just as dirty as his hair is messy, but Michael can still pick out the fact that they’re odd. One holding the design of the British flag, and one being the American.

"Michael!" He screams back, tearing his attention away from a conversation with Burnie to run fully into his arms.

Michael’s arms wrap around him, the two reuniting as though they’re long lost friends who haven’t seen each other in years. If only the relationship between the two of them were so simple. While his face is nestled into Gavin’s neck, he can’t help but inhale and be reminded of waking up all those months ago to an empty bed that smelled so distinctly of this. Of everything he’s been craving ever since Burnie’s new-house party.

His drunken mind relishes the feeling of having in back in his arms, only briefly aware of the liquid dripping off of Gavin’s fingers and onto his back.

When they finally pull away, Michael shoves him roughly, reaching back to wipe his shoulders of the small mess. “You idiot, you’re lucky I’m drunk.”

Gavin’s snickers, his drink still being waved around carelessly as he does so, spilling slightly onto the carpet. “So am I,” he states, “Small world, huh?”

Instead of commenting on how stupid of a joke that was, he reaches forward and grabs Gavin by the collar of his shirt, barely noticing that it causes him to spill his drink even more onto the carpet.

All he cares about his the fact that they’re lips are pressed together, and he has the boy close to him again. The other party-goers cheer them on wildly, laughing and making playful “Oooo!” noises as loud as they can. There might have even been the flash of a camera, but neither he or Gavin care about that.

The night ends quickly, with the only social media informed being Vine due to Barbara’s amusement over their antics.

When Michael wakes up the morning after, it’s to his arm’s being wrapped around Gavin’s slender frame and the alarm on his phone blaring at top volume.

He frantically jumps out of the bed and searches for his phone, buried deep into his jeans pocket, which were thrown onto the floor during last night’s bedroom events. The noise echoes throughout the room and his ear drums, making his hangover double in pain.

He manages to turn it off without entirely waking Gavin, who stirs and puts on a sleepily sour face, but doesn’t even open his eyes before drifting off again.

It’s 7:30AM, and his flight leaves at nine, if he wants to make it on time, he definitely needs to leave right now.

He wishes he could have known about Gavin coming to visit sooner, because then he could have put his trip home on hold for at least a short while longer. At least enough time to have that “sober encounter” with the guy.

That might have to wait a little longer though.

In about two minutes, Michael manages to gather up the rest of his clothes, get dressed, and send a quick text to Lindsay about if she’d be able to pick him up.

He’s just about to leave when a soft snore pulls his attention away from thoughts of his upcoming flight. Gavin is still snoozing away, clearly not ready to wake up and face the hangover that will soon haunt him.

Michael hesitates at the door, lingering as he watches Gavin’s sleeping face from across the room. He looks peaceful, the most calm that Michael’s seen him thus far. He definitely doesn’t want to disturb that just so that he can selfishly get a sober goodbye.

"Fuck," he mutters to himself, walking back into the room and leaning across the bed.

The hair that covers Gavin’s forehead is brushed off so that he can place a soft kiss. Both to that and his cheek.

And then Michael is gone.

*

 **Fuck Buddy:** So, second time this has happened.

 **Michael Jones:** Yep.

 **Fuck Buddy:**  Have you seen Barbara’s vines about us?

 **Michael Jones:**  No? She posted vines?

 **Fuck Buddy:**  Yup! [Boyfrienders1](https://vine.co/v/hDOHvBxT9Hp) [Boyfrienders2](https://vine.co/v/hDOw6pzMTmt) [Boyfrienders3](https://vine.co/v/hDOFB5deWTU) [Boyfrienders4](https://vine.co/v/hDOFX2tvY79)

 **Michael Jones:** Wow, we were gone.

 **Fuck Buddy:** Kinda strange, don’t you think? We’ve met twice and we’ve both been drunk off our asses both times.

 **Michael Jones:** And, with the way things are looking, we’ll be meeting that way again next time.

 **Fuck Buddy:** What makes you say that?

 **Michael Jones:** Well, you’ll be in town for Jack’s bachelor party? Right?

 **Fuck Buddy:** Yeah, I think so

 **Michael Jones:** Everybody is just going to be drunk the entire time

 **Fuck Buddy:** I’ll only be there for the night though. My planned trip to America is about a week long, but I’ll only be in Austin for the one.

 **Michael Jones:**  Well, how about we both avoid the drinking at Jack’s party, and just hang out as the two boring sober ones. And then we can try to get to know one another in person without the help of alcohol.

 **Michael Jones:** Yeah, I’d like that.

***

He ends up coming sooner than Jack’s bachelor party.

Michael is only informed of it _after_  he’s already at Barbara’s welcome-back-party (after her week long trip home to Canada), and Gavin is busy at the Rooster Teeth building on the podcast set.

He ends up literally calling ten seconds after the podcast ends to yell at him.

"What the fuck, dude? You couldn’t have given me a little more notice? I was already four drinks in by the time Barbara got her head out of her ass and told me that you were here visiting!"

He can hear Gavin’s squeaky laughter loud in his head, “Don’t worry, I’m pretty tipsy too. We had a little contest during the podcast on who could drink the most, and let me tell you something, Michael. I won.”

"Well, congratulations, because now we’re both in Austin at the same time and we’re drunk off our asses."

"I’m going to be here for two weeks, Michael," he hiccups half-way through the sentence, and there’s a beat of silence as he composes himself again, "We’ve got  _plenty_ of time to hang out and meet like two sober chums.”

"No, we fucking don’t, you idiot. I’m literally leaving to go visit my brother tomorrow. It’s his fucking birthday or some shit."

There’s only silence from the other line again until Gavin practically explodes, “Are you bloody kidding me!? What are the chances of that!?”

Michael can’t keep up the angry facade any longer, and laughs loudly into the receiver. He’s drunk, and Gavin’s in Austin. It’s hard to keep angry when he knows that it’s neither of their faults. He just kind of wants the guy to get to the party as quickly as possible so they can make the most of their drunken time together.

"Just get to damn party, you idiot."

Gavin makes an odd noise, that can only be described as both a hum of amusement and uncontrollable giggles. “You just want a shag,” he accuses.

"I want a lot of things," he shrugs, "But what I really want most right now is to down some more shots with my drinking boi."

"Are we boi’s, Michael?"

"Gavvy, we are best boi’s around."

***

And that’s how things unhealthily continue.

Every single time that they’re able to meet one another, it’s coincidentally for the short amount of time for a day or less. Each time, either one or both of them are drunk. Then the night ends with them making good use of the closest bed. One is always gone by morning.

It isn’t like it’s by choice, or because they don’t like one another’s company, they’re scheduling (or the universe) must just hate the idea of them getting to meet sober.

Their friendship grows stronger every day though, as they remain in constant contact through text message even while hundreds of miles away from one another.

They speak each day about literally anything they can think of. Half way through Let’s Play recordings, Michael will physically put down his controller to answer a text from Gavin. Even if it’s one as stupid as “ _Do you think fish know that they’re wet all the time?_ " or " _Which would you rather french kiss for five minutes. A slobbery St. Bernard dog? Or Danny Devito’s asshole?_ ”

Somehow, even having to deal with all of that, Michael’s attraction to the British man grows past something far more than just sexual.

He pictures  _more_  with Gavin.

Not even just some sober encounters that will probably still end with the process of a make-out session and sex, but actual encounters. Where Gavin lives in America, has his own apartment, and works side by side with Michael in Achievement Hunter.

He imagines sitting down at his desk, editing a Rage Quit after an already crappy day, and turning to see Gavin sitting beside him, making that obnoxious face that he only does to playfully piss him off.

He and Gavin going out to the movies together, just the two of them. Or going to a bar, or maybe even just hanging out at his place playing video games.

Holding Gavin’s hand as they walk down the street, the air chilly and cold but their palms warm. Cracking silly jokes and hearing through own laughter echo down the street as they make fresh footprints into the snow that’s still already falling.

And he even imagines the sex. Not the rushed or sloppy sex that they have now, where its all alcohol induced, unthought through decisions, and beer breath. But soft touches, hidden smiles, whispered compliments and praises.

He imagines sitting down and learning all of the silly little things about one another that they wouldn’t even think to share with others. He wants to know what Gavin’s go-to order is for every restaurant he’s stepped foot in, what silly thoughts and ideas swam through his head when he was just a carefree child carelessly playing on a swingset, how many different channels he rotates through when watching television before deciding that there’s nothing to watch.

Every tiny infinitesimal detail. He wants to learn everything that he can about the other boy.

He doesn’t want to just have drunken encounters with him between bed sheets, no matter how much he shrugs it off as being the truth.

He wants to know more than just his name, what his favorite alcoholic drink is, his dick size, and what his face looks like when he orgasms.

He just wants Gavin, and everything that comes with him.

And that’s scary.

***

 **Michael Jones:** Have you and Dan ever banged?

 **Bed Warmer:** No, of course not! He’s like a damn brother to me.

 **Michael Jones:** Really? Not even once?

 **Bed Warmer:** No

 **Michael Jones:** Nothing?! No slomohomos?

 **Bed Warmer:** No! Dan has a girlfriend!

 **Michael Jones:**  Not even like… A couple blowjobs between bros?

 **Bed Warmer:** Jesus Christ, no!

 **Michael Jones:**  No bro-jobs?

 **Bed Warmer:** I can’t believe you.

 **Michael Jones:**  Okay, okay, I’ll stop. But, why have you not hooked up with Dan at all?

 **Bed Warmer:** I’ve never been interested in him like that, and I’m also pretty sure he isn’t into dudes.

 **Michael Jones:**  Shame.

 **Bed Warmer:** What does that mean?!

 **Michael Jones:**  What does what mean?

 **Bed Warmer:** The whole “shame” thing. Why is it a shame that Dan isn’t gay?

 **Michael Jones:**  I dunno? He’s just a pretty fit good looking guy.

 **Bed Warmer:** I don’t think it’s a shame.

 **Michael Jones:** … Are you jealous?

 **Bed Warmer:** No!

 **Michael Jones:**  I think you’re jealous of #Dantheman getting all of my attention and praises!

 **Bed Warmer:** Shut up, I’m not!

 **Michael Jones:** That’s really cute. You’re really cute.

 **Bed Warmer:** … Cuter than Dan?

 **Michael Jones:**  Yes.

 **Bed Warmer:** Okay.

 **Michael Jones:** You can stop grinning wildly at your phone now. I only called you cute, get over it.

 **Bed Warmer:** But you just said I was cuter than Dan, and you just praised him up a storm. So if you were ever praising me, you’d probably say even better things than that.

 **Michael Jones:** Don’t get a big head.

 **Bed Warmer:** I get a big everything when I think of you.

 **Michael Jones:**  Jesus, I’m at work you whore.

 **Bed Warmer:** Aw, no dick pics?

 **Michael Jones:** Later, if you want, but definitely not when I’m at the office.

 **Bed Warmer:** What if I’m hard for you now though?

 **Michael Jones:**  Fucking stop it. I’m going to reach through this fucking phone and murder you if you even THINK about continuing and giving me a boner at work.

 **Bed Warmer:** I don’t think that’s how phones work

 **Michael Jones:**  Asshole.

 **Bed Warmer:** ;)

 **Michael Jones:**  When I used to watch Slomoguys videos, I only paid attention to Dan. I was like, “Gavin who?”

 **Bed Warmer:** :(

 **Michael Jones:** Kidding. You were hot too.

 **Bed Warmer:** :)

 **Michael Jones:** What happened?

 **Bed Warmer:** MICHAEL!

 **Michael Jones:** You’re such a baby

 **Bed Warmer:** No you

 **Michael Jones:** Good comeback.

 **Bed Warmer:** Go back to work, you tosser. You’ve got to get that video edited by lunch.

 **Michael Jones:** Okay.

 **Michael Jones:** And for the record Gav, if I were drunk and going to sleep with a random stranger, I’d always pick you over Dan any day.

 **Bed Warmer:** <3

***

For an entire week in April, Michael is sick as a dog.

Not just a tiny flu that he can power his way through and continue to work. No, he is stuck at home with his head in the toilet bowl and buckets surrounding any surface he’s found himself sleeping on.

Gavin texts him throughout it, keeping him company, and entertained by spewing his bullshit theories on how he never gets the flu.

 **Complete Idiot:** I just don’t allow it to happen.

 **Michael Jones:** What does that even mean?

 **Complete Idiot:** I feel the flu coming on, and I just think to myself, nah I’m not gonna do it this time. And then it goes away.

 **Michael Jones:** That makes zero sense.

 **Complete Idiot:** It makes a load of sense! I bet when you first started to feel ill, you thought, oh bullocks, I’m getting sick. And then you just gave in to the sickness.

 **Michael Jones:** Oh, that was my first big mistake was it?

 **Complete Idiot:** You’re being sarcastic, but this is serious work, Michael.

 **Michael Jones:** Sorry that I’m not taking Dr. Free’s moronic advice more seriously.

 **Complete Idiot:** I’m just looking out for you, love. If you had stronger willpower, you probably wouldn’t be sick at all right now. Take some of that anger that you put into video games, and use it to heroically fight away bacteria!

 **Michael Jones:** I’ll be sure to keep that in mind next time, thank you. It doesn’t help me much now though.

 **Complete Idiot:** Sorry that I couldn’t have gotten there sooner <3

*

Their odd one-night-stand type relationship isn’t fully announced to the Rooster Teeth staff and audience until Michael appears on a podcast. Which he only agrees to momentarily be on as a treat to himself on his first day back to work.

Being out of the office sick for a week straight isn’t the greatest feeling in the world, and it’s left him with a lot of leftover work to do. He’s spent the entire say going back and forth between the RWBY department, RvB department, and discussing a character he’ll be playing in a new upcoming series with Lindsay.

Although he’s starred in many episodes of the RT Podcast, this time he’s only been called in to be shown on the green screen. Apparently they were talking about Gavin, and it isn’t all that surprising that the two’s drunken shenanigans became the subject of conversation.

"Michael!" Burnie practically demands, through the grin on his face, as soon as he’s standing behind the mic. "Tell us about how you know Gavin."

"Uh, we have a weird type of relationship where the only times we’ve ever met one another is while drunk and about to have sex," he explains easily with a nonchalant shrug.

It’s only once he speaks the words aloud that he realizes how odd they probably sound. It probably looks odd too, with the knowledge that (to the audience) he’s standing in Paris in front of the Eiffel tower. Oh, the powers of technology and green screens.

Barbara raises an eyebrow and pulls her drink away from her mouth to stare at him incredulously, “What?!”

"Gavin Free, you know him." He explains as though he’s speaking to a toddler, both to stall the oncoming conversation and to tease her. "Thin as a twig, British, teenage boy band hair, skinny jeans, looks kind of like a Twink but with enough body hair to make an ape jealous."

"Yeah, yeah," she waves it away, irritation in her eyes at his attempts to distract her, "You two have  _only_  had drunken sex?”

"Yeah, always drunk. The only kind of encounter we’ve had too. Remember Burnie’s party where we filmed that RT Recap and we were both totally wasted in it? That was the first. Since then? I’ve lost count.

I have yet to meet sober Gavin Free. Honestly, we’ve both been extremely intoxicated during every one of our meetings. And I don’t mean a little tipsy, I mean dancing on a tabletop and then giggling while pulling one another into the first available room.”

Barbara throws her head back with laughter, hoping that next time the boys come across one another she’s there to witness them being drunk horny idiots.

Gus just raises an eyebrow. “You two both work at the same company with mutual friends, and you’re trying to convince me that you two have never met while sober?  _Never?_ ”

"Nope, always drunk. Purely coincidental too. And I don’t mean a little tipsy, I mean dancing-on-a-tabletop-and-humping-cabinet-doors drunk off of our asses." He grimaces at the fuzzy memories of watching the video on his phone while hungover. It’s still there, saved into his camera roll, and he still hasn’t decided on if he should delete it or not.

"Why haven’t you two just made plans to meet up with one another then?"

"Because one of us is always busy. Gavin lives in England and he’s still making the transition of moving from there to here, not much time can be spent doing silly things with me."

"Yet you find the time to have drunken sex in my spare bedroom," Burnie points out, glaring but unable to repress an amused smirk.

Michael grins, “Don’t throw parties with so much alcohol.”

"So two have slept together?" Barbara tries to confirm, clearly wanting more details, judging by the smirk on her face.

He gives her an annoyed look and tries to hold back his grin, “Literally every single time we’ve met has ended in sleeping together. It isn’t like this is a secret.”

"But you’ve got to be sober in the morning, right?"

"Uh, no. Actually one of us always ending up having to leave before the other wakes up. Whoever goes first always leaves a note or sends a text or something, but other than that’s it just one big continuous one night stand that doesn’t really make any sense."

"That’s so stupid," she rolls her eyes, but her giggles give her away, "I’m going to have a talk with Gavin about this. You two need to meet and talk while sober."

"Why?"

"Because then you can get married, and Gavin can move to the US on an easy visa."

Burnie seems to jump at the idea, “Yes!  _Please_  do so, it would make my job a _hell_ of a lot easier.”

"Don’t jump the gun just yet," Michael laughs, "I don’t really know anything about the guy. I’ve been a huge fan of The Slow Mo Guys, but other than that I know pretty much what everybody else knows."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah," he nods, and then shrugs, "And, ya’know, dick stuff. Although he  _is_  well known for talking about his dick a lot, so maybe what I know isn’t all  _that_ different.”

"I see you two talking on twitter all the time though. Sending stupid pictures of yourselves to one another through tweets," she points out.

Which is true. He and Gavin will often banter back and forth through twitter, or compliment one another on a new video, or just send stupid pictures of them making silly faces. It’s all just to get the fans hyped and overexcited, they’re both aware of the whole “mavin” craze that’s been hitting the Tumblr RT fans recently, and sometimes it’s fun to feed into it a little.

They’re probably going bat shit crazy over this podcast right now.

"We talk a lot," he shrugs, "Texting all of the time, and communicating through social media. But, like, we’ve never spoken face to face while not drunk. So, I don’t know if you can really consider us as  _knowing_ each other.”

He just doesn’t know what Gavin’s like around other people. He doesn’t know how guarded he is with information about himself. Things he’s told Michael could just be common knowledge to all those that know him.

He doesn’t want to get his hopes up by saying out loud (on a live podcast) that he and Gavin are close and they know a lot of private things about one another. The more casual and nonchalant he is about the subject, the better.

Michael just has to look like he knows what’s he’s doing in all of the tomfuckery.

"He was just here for an entire week, and you didn’t try to make plans to meet up with him then?"

Michael must make a comically confused face, because everybody (both on the set and in the control room) begins laughing. Even he has no choice but to join in with them.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"He’s been here all week. Literally just left on Sunday."

"What? No he wasn’t."

"He was. We had him in for some filming, and documentation about his work visa," Gus confirms, "He actually did mention going to see you, but then he found out you were sick."

Michael laughs even louder at that, “Oh great, what an asshole.”

"He’s fucking around, I actually had to tell him not to go."

"Why the fuck would you do that?"

"You said you didn’t want me barging into your apartment and checking up on you, I figured that went for everybody else as well. I didn’t know that you were _this_  close to Gavin. I mean, I knew that you banged at my house party, but I didn’t know it was an ongoing thing.”

"Well, maybe you should keep in the know, Burnie," he states with mock anger, his smile easily giving him away.

The best thing about working at Rooster Teeth, is that they’re all friends who get along perfectly with one another. Whether in front of a live camera or not. And although Michael is seriously annoyed that he wasn’t informed of Gavin’s visit sooner (like, for example, a goddamn week ago), he can’t find it in himself to direct that annoyance at them.

He was sick anyways, so it was probably better that things turned out this way. The idea of Gavin’s first real impression of him being filled with vomit buckets, tissues, and cough syrup is not ideal.

*

Michael hasn’t been to the Achievement Hunter office all day. It’s practically his second home, and being away from it for so long hurts a little bit. Of course, he’s been away from it for much longer, but he wasn’t sick and practically begging himself to feel better at that time.

He’s making his way there when he’s stopped by Geoff, who’s walking out of the kitchen area with a drink in his hands. “Michael! Long time no see, buddy.”

"Hey, Geoff, it’s good to be back finally. Anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

"Nothing really. Recorded a few Let’s Play’s and a few episodes in other shows without you, but not too many."

Michael smirks, “Worried the fans would start a riot if I wasn’t there?”

"Yeah, yeah," Geoff grins and rolls his eyes, "Wouldn’t want people unsubscribing to the channel just because our precious Rage Quit is out with a little flu."

"Fuck my ass ‘ _little flu_ ’. I was pretty sure I was going to heave over and die at some point during the week.”

"Well, the main thing is that you’re here now and feeling better. So we’ll be able to get you straight back into recording the Rage Quit that’s due for tomorrow." Michael groans, but Geoff stops him with a nudge to the shoulder, "Shut the hell up with your whining. You’re playing video games for a living."

They begin walking the short distance to the Achievement Hunter office door, and he can almost feel the oncoming stress coming his way. Recording and editing an entire Rage Quit in less than a day isn’t his idea of fun.

"Yeah, whatever."

Geoff’s smile reaches his eyes as he seems to remember something, “But, hey, speaking of that, we recorded some Let’s Play’s with Gav while you were gone and they were fucking hilarious. You should watch them sometime today, ya’know, after you’re finished your own work and all that.”

That causes Michael to stop walking dead in his tracks.

"What? Gavin was  _here_ _?_ " he asks, his tone almost frantic, "In the Achievement Hunter office?"

"Yeah, you just missed him though. Went back to England two days ago," Geoff informs with a shrug, "But don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get a formal introduction at some point."

He lets out a defeated sigh and rolls his eyes. Figures the week he was sick and cut off all communication with the office would fall on the same date that Gavin came back and spent actual time in his work space. If he wasn’t even annoyed over the fact that he missed his opportunity to meet him while sober, his irritation could definitely also be blamed on the fact that they didn’t even get to bang during this visit.

"Nah, don’t worry about it," he shrugs, attempting to seem uncaring.

"We did give him your desk though," Geoff supplies, "And while letting him sit in on a Let’s Play, we let him use your Xbox, hope that was okay."

"I- Yeah, of course it’s okay," he nods, struck with both confusion and awe. The idea of Gavin sitting in  _his_  desk makes him feel weird. Like, that’s something he should be freaking out over and squealing about like a teenage girl. Maybe he’s deeper into this backwards ass relationship than he’s thought. Instead of continuing with that train of conversation, he decides its best to change the topic just to avoid further stuttering and embarrassment. “You guys let him sit in on a Let’s Play? You never let anybody do that.”

"Yeah," Geoff smiles, his eyes look appreciative as he thinks back to it, "The kid was funny. The video’s gonna be fucking hilarious, We’re all actually really excited for it to come out."

"Hm, Gavin is quite the character," he agrees with a slight nod.

"Just between you and I, I’ve been thinking a lot about the kid. He’d be a pretty good recruit for Achievement Hunter. And, I don’t just mean as an editor or camera man, I mean as a full blown Lets Player. That’d be cool, right?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"I don’t know, you two seem to have… odd affairs going on."

"Odd affairs," Michael repeats with a raise of his eyebrow, "You could just say that I’m banging him, you know? It’s not exactly a well kept secret."

"I’d really rather not," the man grimaces.

"What does our sex life have to do with his job opportunities with Achievement Hunter?"

Geoff shrugs, “Relationships with co-workers can be weird, especially if they involve just sleeping with one another during drunk parties and never speaking to each other otherwise.”

"We text," he argues, but his words go ignored.

"My point is, I don’t want to seriously consider hiring somebody if you wouldn’t be comfortable having them around."

"Geoff, the guy and I have done things together that I don’t think Id even want to say out loud," he dead pans, "I’m sure that I’m comfortable playing a couple of dumb videos and recording audio with him."

"You say that, but you were wasted those times," he points out, "You two haven’t met one another while sober yet, and some people can be very different while drunk."

Michael purses his lips, not willing to admit that his boss has a point. “I’ll think about it,” is all he says after a beat of silence.

"Good," he states, nodding with approval, "Because I don’t want anybody’s high school feelings getting destroyed, and I’d also like to add another member to our team."

"He would be a good addition," Michael says, thinking back to all of he and Gavin’s funny conversations and banter.

"You wouldn’t know. I’m hiring him to play video games, not suck your dick."

Michael childishly retorts by sticking out his tongue, not up for another discussion with his boss about how well (or unwell) he and Gavin know one another. Also, not up to admitting that he has a point.

He leaves Geoff alone, returning back to the Achievement Hunter office for the first time in a weak. It smells like Redbull, the pizza they’d just ordered for lunch, and whatever other musky smells you could imagine coming from a room that is regularly holding five grown men. But to Michael it’s like an odd second home.

"Rage Quit’s back," Ray jokes, slipping his headphones down around his neck to greet.

"Hey, Ray," he smirks, turning to the others in the room with a half hearted wave, "Hey guys."

"Welcome back, you look a lot better."

"Feelin’ a lot better, Jack," he adds a grin for good measure.

"Perfect, because we need a new Rage Quit ready for tomorrow," Geoff states as he walks into the room behind him, not even hesitating to shove past as he makes his way to his own desk.

Michael rolls his eyes, not exactly thrilled at the prospect of his first day back to work consisting of listening to his own bitching over stupid video games. “Yeah, yeah, fine,” he says, turning to collapse into his own desk chair.

It doesn’t feel any different since Gavin’s sat in it. Why the fuck would it? Everything is still in order. His Banjo Kazooie figurine, with the matching Achievement Hunter logo, and the tower of pimps still in place, but something new does catch his eye as soon as he scans the surface of his desk.

A grin stretches across Michael’s face as he sees a note next to his keyboard, weighted down with a chocolate kiss wrapped in pink tinfoil.

_Feel better soon, then maybe I can give you the real version of this next time that I visit. ;)_

_-Gavin <3_

He doesn’t hesitate to pull out his own and send a quick text to the Brit.

 **Michael Jones:** Thanks for the kiss. But FYI, <3’s make you sound like a teenage girl.

It doesn’t take long for his phone to buzz, informing him he’s received a response.

 **Complete Idiot:**  <3

***

He doesn’t  _want_  to drink tonight.

He promised himself that he  _wouldn’t_  drink tonight.

Tonight’s the night that Gavin’s visiting. Of course, fate hates them and it couldn’t be an extended trip. He’s literally just here overnight, not nearly enough time for Michael to not drink now and get another chance to interact soberly with him. He’s getting off the plane in Austin, partying here with everybody for the night, and then he, Barbara, Burnie, and Gus are leaving first thing in the morning. Some stupid convention in Ohio that Michael had originally been invited to, but declined because they only had room for four people and Barbara really wanted to go. Giving up his place to her was a really stupid decision now that he looks back on it. It may sound a little high school-ish to want to go on a trip to spend time with a boy he likes, but can you blame him?

His thoughts are interrupted by Jack holding out a beer to him with a look of concern on his face.

"How about just  _one_  drink to calm your nerves?”

Practically every single guy from Rooster Teeth is hanging out at Jack’s place, celebrating the man’s bachelor party with nothing just each other’s loud company, video games, and more drinks than they can handle.

Michael’s happy to be here, it isn’t like he’d ever turn down an opportunity to hang out with his friends and celebrate the upcoming marriage of one. It looks as though his constant foot tapping and furrowed eyebrows is causing some concern amongst his friends.

He’s just really worried about meeting Gavin in real life. He isn’t even quite sure why. There’s just this sinking feeling in his stomach that is twisting into knots and feeling his head with fear.

Fuck, he feels like such an idiot. Gavin definitely isn’t this worried. The guy never gets worried or stressed about  _anything_.

"Nah," he shakes his head slowly, "Promised I’d stay alcohol-free so that Gavin and I could actually meet. Ya’know. Face to sober face."

"Is one drink really gonna kill you though?"

"Yeah, who knows?" Burnie interjects, "You two could meet while sober and absolutely  _hate_  one another, Maybe this is the world’s way of trying to tell you that, but still trying to get you laid.”

Michael’s about to roll his eyes and laugh at the stupid words, until they actually sink in and he has no choice but to think them over.

He hadn’t even considered what would happen if he and Gavin met and decided that they had nothing in common, or were unable to even be in the same room as one another. People can be very different when drunk, what if they actually hate one another?

He doesn’t particularly like the idea of hating Gavin.

"Give me that fucking drink," he demands, before taking it from Jack’s still outstretched hand and downing it.

And then another after that.

Then another.

*

Gavin grins at him as soon as he walks into the house with the others and meets his eyes, taking note of the almost empty beer bottle in his hand. His eyes are warm and filled with amusement as he rolls them with playful annoyance, “You already got started without me?”

Not even an once of anger or annoyance.

Somewhere deep inside Michael’s drunken brain, he feels guilty.

This could have been a chance for the two of them to meet sober. They didn’t have to get drunk or even have any alcohol at all.

His stupid nerves had to fuck all of that up, but as Gavin enters the house and lets out a pleased squeal when he sees the Halo start up menu on Jack’s television screen, he’s grateful for his idiotic decisions.

Meeting Gavin sober could have fucked this all up. There are no words to describe the warmth that explodes in his chest every time he sees the guy in person. It’s like he gets better and better each time, his memory only giving a small sample of how great he is to see up close. And now that they’re next to one another again, he doesn’t need to imagine what it would be like to take Gavin by the jaw and press a kiss to his lips. He can do it now, and Gavin is more than willing to kiss back, even if he’s only just finishing off his first drink now.

They need the alcohol, because without it, what if there’s nothing there?

Michael can’t even begin to entertain the idea. Gavin’s become too big a part in his life now for that all to be thrown away over a little sober-ness.

***

Michael spends a lot of his free time hanging out at Lindsay’s apartment.

It’s rarely ever a planned get together. She’ll just text him with a “I’m bored. Come over and watch movies with me, asshole.” or he’ll message her complaining about how there’s nothing to do. In often always ends like this.

Sprawled out of the couch with a blanket, the lights in her apartment all turned off, a Netflix movie on the screen, a bowl of popcorn between them, and her legs in his lap.

It’s kind of like a sporadic tradition between them.

Lately though, he’s been ignoring the movies and choosing to text Gavin throughout it instead.

Like right now.

 **Michael Jones:** I’ve been hardcore working out for the last 3 weeks

 **Personal Twink:** What?? Why?

 **Michael Jones:** There’s this new RT thing going on that requires me to take off my shirt, so I figured eh. Why not.

 **Personal Twink:** Three weeks because “why not”? You’re crazy.

 **Michael Jones:** It’s paying off though! Look!

 **Michael Jones:**  *Photo Message*

 

 **Michael Jones:** Gav?

 **Personal Twink:** I am so angry with you.

 **Michael Jones:** What?! Why?!

 **Personal Twink:** It’s not fair for you to be so attractive when you are an entire ocean away.

 **Michael Jones:** Oh god. You idiot.

 **Personal Twink:** I’m pretty sure I just died.

 **Personal Twink:** How long have you said you’ve been working out now? I can’t remember

 **Michael Jones:** I’ve already said it like 2 times for you. But three weeks.

 **Personal Twink:** Last time I’ve seen you was…. In June?

 **Michael Jones:** Yeah, i think so. At Jack’s bachelor party?

 **Personal Twink:** Good. So that means I haven’t been under… that… yet. I was worried I had and somehow forgotten.

 **Michael Jones:** Are you okay?

 **Personal Twink:** No. That picture is now my iPhone wallpaper

 **Michael Jones:** Gavin no

 **Personal Twink:** I need to be reminded. Every time I use my phone.

 **Michael Jones:** You’re joking, right?

 **Personal Twink:** Yes, but I could easily make it a reality.

 **Michael Jones:** Hahaha. Do not.

 **Personal Twink:** It would not even be an overreaction. You look goddamn amazing.

 **Michael Jones:** Please collect yourself

 **Personal Twink:** Can I come collect YOU?

 **Michael Jones:** Whore

 **Personal Twink:** For you, I’d be anything

 **Michael Jones:** Gavin!

 **Personal Twink:** Do you not see what you just sent me?! I am reacting appropriately!

 **Michael Jones:** I didn’t send you a dick pic or anything, get a hold of yourself!

 **Personal Twink:** I can’t. I am unable.

 **Michael Jones:** Less than a minute passes before his phone alerts him of another text message.

 **Personal Twink:** It’s now my iPhone wallpaper.

 **Michael Jones:** GAVIN NO

Michael’s about to write another message when his phone is smacked down out of his hands.

"What the fuck?" he asks, Lindsay, looking up to see her staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You’ve been staring down at your phone and giggling since the movie started."

"I have not."

"Oh yeah?" she challenges, "What’s going on in it then?"

He looks up at the screen, seeing a man and a woman sitting in some type of restaurant or coffee shop. They aren’t actors that Michael can recognize, but what else can you expect from some crappy movie that Lindsay picked off of Netflix?

"Uh, he just confessed his undying love for her?" he guesses, knowing that her movie choices often consist of sappy rom-coms. He can’t be too far off.

"No, he literally just told her that he’s gay."

"Oh," Michael looks back to the television screen, "Well, good for him."

"Michael! I invited you over to watch a movie with me, not to text your stupid little British booty call."

He shrugs, “You got me there. Gav  _is_  pretty stupid.”

"I want you to be completely honest with me right now, Michael," she states, looking him dead in the eyes with such intensity that it worries him, "Are you two dating?"

The question throws him off guard for a moment, “I- No? I don’t know think, at least.”

"You don’t know?"

"It’s complicated."

"This isn’t about you and Gavin coincidentally never being sober when you meet, is it?" Lindsay asks, a knowing look on her face.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Yes you do. We’re best friends, I could read it you like a book. I don’t think either of you  _want_  to meet while sober.”

Michael has to force himself to put on a look of shock, although it just ends up looking exaggerated. “What?! No, we want to meet each another, why would we not?”

"Because I know you two very well. I know that you both have this weird thing about commitments and relationships in general. You  _like_  Gavin, don’t you?”

Michael shrugs, trying to pass off the question as nonchalantly as he can. “I like my dick in his ass.”

Sadly, his attempts to sway the conversation by grossing her out with vulgarity does not seem to work, as she just pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration. Blocking out his words and doing her best not to think of them.

"No, you  _really_  like him, and I think he really likes you too.”

"You couldn’t know that."

" You like one another while drunk, but that’s all you know each other as. Sure, you’ve got your stupid little text messages, but you don’t really  _know_  what the other is like yet unless they have beer bottles taped to their palms.”

"That was one time! Burnie paid him twenty bucks to do it!"

She continues on as though he hasn’t even spoken. “And the reason you two haven’t met while sober yet, is because you don’t  _want to_. You’re both scared that if you meet without alcohol flooding your systems, you’re going to realize that you aren’t right for one another and this little ‘relationship’ will end before its even technically started.”

"Maybe I just really fucking love booze, have you ever thought about that, Linds?" He seethes at her with a glare. She’s hit the nail on the head, and its concerning him. Hearing his own internal thoughts being spoken out loud is like a harsh slap in the face from reality.

"You’re really willing to destroy your liver if it means getting to see this guy naked again?"

"Maybe. You haven’t seen him naked before. You don’t know what it’s like."

"No. You two are just scared little children, worried that the first time you’ve ever truly felt this way for another person is all because your alcohol soaked dicks can’t tell the difference between just wanting to fuck someone, and wanting to love someone.

Everyone in this company is getting real tired of you two dancing around one another. It was entertaining at first, even funny. We got some funny podcasts and office gossip out of it, but it’s gone on too long, Michael. It’s time to be an actual adult and take some responsibility for your actions. Avoiding somebody until your drunk, having sloppy sex, and then ditching them to go to another country the next day is not healthy. It’s actually insane. Who goes to such extreme lengths for a one night stand?”

"…I could think of a few people."

"No, it’s just you and Gavin. And the ridiculous thing about it is that this is like some kind of twisted mutual agreement between you two. You’re both totally fine with this weird relationship you’ve got going on."

"Isn’t that all that matters? If we’re fine with it, then who cares?"

“ _You_  will. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day you’re going to lose Gavin and be really fucking pissed at yourself for just going with the flow until it was too late.”

All Michael can do is sigh in response as he looks back at the screen with stubborn annoyance.

She’s right. Of course she is. Lindsay is always right.

That doesn’t mean he wants to admit it though.

Why can’t relationships just be easy? What happened to the good old days of high school where all you needed to date was to be in the same class or club.

If this continues, one day, somebody perfect (and sober) is going to come into the picture and sweep Gavin right off of his feet. And Michael wouldn’t even have the right to complain about it.

***

RTX is always the time of year when those in the Rooster Teeth community can come together, meet face to face, and have a great time while in the large convention hall. Getting autographs and pictures with their favorite RT cast members, buy merchandise, and show off the amazing cosplay that they’ve worked so hard on.

Dan and Gavin have flown to Austin for the weekend, along with the thousands of fans, so that they can hang out with the fans, film a special Slomoguys video with Freddie Wong, and have their own panel.

They get to see each other before RTX actually starts, but of course, it’s during the pre-RTX party that the company always throws. 

Surprise, surprise, they’re both incredibly drunk as usual, and it ends with them having rough and drunken sex in Michael’s apartment. Which, weirdly enough, still doesn’t end with them actually getting to meet one another. Not even the morning after, because Gavin has to leave immediately for the Slomoguys video involving hundreds of water balloons being thrown at he and Dan.

Not exactly the greatest way to cure a hangover.

Michael and Gavin know that they aren’t going to get any sort of formal introduction  _during_  RTX weekend. Both of their schedules are booked solid. Any moment where Gavin has free time, Michael is due to be on stage for a panel, or is extremely busy with meet and greets or signings. And vise-versa for Michael.

While giving autographs or taking pictures, many fans will ask them “Have you gotten to meet Michael/Gavin yet?” and they’ll have to say no and spew out some silly joke to mask the annoyance of not having any time to do so.

They don’t even want to bother by saying “There isn’t enough time” because then they’d also have to explain that Michael is leaving Austin after RTX to go visit his parents in Jersey. Perfect timing, of course, but there was a family emergency, so he didn’t really have any choice.

They text throughout it all, of course, never too busying to send a ridiculous message or photo of their face all screwed up and looking ridiculous. It’s their favorite past-time after all.

It’s only when RTX ends that they actually get to speak to one another without alcohol flooding their systems. And it isn’t even a drunken encounter that ends with sex, much to their annoyance. It’s while Michael is stuck inside the Austin Airport with nothing but time on his hands, and Gavin is wide awake in Geoff and Griffon’s spare bedroom.

Michael’s reading the signs for his flight departure when his phone begins buzzing loudly from his pocket, along with his text alert that is on the loudest possible volume.

“ _Yo, bitch with tentacles. You’ve got a text message,_ " his phone rings loudly, causing the people around him to give him either confused or dirty looks. His face goes red, but more from annoyance than embarrassment.

Ever since the video featuring that joke has come out, they’ve all changed their ringtones to it and kept their phones on the highest volume. Of course, it’s only funny when they’re in the office and able to laugh whenever it happens. Not in a crowed and public airport where nobody understands the inside joke.

He’s about to text the person back and let them know how much of an asshole they are for texting at almost four in the morning, until he see’s that it’s Gavin. Of course it is. When isn’t it?

 **The British Are Coming:** Can I call you?

He furrows a brow at the message.

 **Michael Jones:** Why? Also, wouldn’t calling from your cell-phone in America cost a dick ton?

 **The British Are Coming:**  I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m willing to pay it.

 **Michael Jones:** Yeah, sure then. Go for it.

It’s only seconds later that his phone begins ringing, and he lets it ring for a second or two before answering it. This will be the first time that they verbally speak to one another while sober.

He presses the answer button and holds it to his ear, “…Hello?”

"Michael," he hears Gavin chirp out, his voice still as British as ever.

He’s unable to describe the weird feeling of relief that washes over him. It’s been a long time since he’s gotten to hear Gavin’s actual voice, and it’s the first time he’s hearing it while having an actual conversation with him. Or, at least, one that isn’t filled with slurred words and hiccups.

"Hey," Michael says, somewhat breathily, the small smile on his face making him look like a love struck teenager. "What’s up?"

"Nothing," Gavin insists, but his voice sounds the slightly laced with panic, "It’s nothing."

"Are you sure? You sound a little frazzled."

"I’m not  _frazzled!_ " He argues, clearly taken aback and offended by the assumption.

Michael just snickers, “Alright, you’re not, but  _something_  is clearly up. Are you okay?”

"Yeah, I just- bad dream."

He raises a brow, “You called me because you had a bad dream?”

There’s a beat of silence from the other line, only the sound of a shaky breath and then “Sorry, you’re probably busy.”

"No! No, it’s totally fine. Do you want to talk about it?"

Michael quickly double checks his planes departure time before finding a place to sit away from any curious ears. Not like it would matter if anybody heard, but privacy is appreciated when you’re attempting to comfort your not-really-boyfriend over mobile phone after he’s had a nightmare.

"Not really, sorry, it was just something dumb that freaked me out."

"Okay, well, we can talk about something else then. Keep your mind off of it, if you want?"

"Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to New Jersey?"

"My flight leaves in twenty minutes, so even if I didn’t want to talk to you, I’d be stuck with nothing to do but wait anyways."

"Ah," Gavin murmurs, paired with a soft shuffling noise that indicates that he’s nodding. "Well, thank you. I appreciate it."

Michael doesn’t think it’s any problem at all. He still isn’t certain of what  _they_  are, but he cares about Gavin a hell of a lot more than just a fuck buddy. Enough to be concerned even if the guy is just a little spooked after a nightmare.

And Michael Jones is the king of talking. Keeping Gavin’s mind fresh off of whatever hell his mind has unleashed upon itself is a piece of cake.

"So, this is the first time we’ve spoken to one another sober."

Gavin hums at the idea, “It’s nice so far. No arguments or disagreements yet, I think we’re doing rather well!”

"Me too. Maybe there’s hope for us yet," he muses, "It’s nice to hear your voice without slurred speech, but pleasing to know that you still sound just as dumb and British.

"Ah, thank you!" Gavin laughs, "You sound just as Jersey."

"Good, that means when I make it home my family will still recognize me."

"Do you think we’ll recognize each other when we meet?"

"I’m pretty sure I still know what you look like. I’ve seen practically every single video that you’re a part of."

"True. I just wonder if you look slightly more blurry when I’m drunk. What if we meet and I’m blown away by how in-focus you are."

"Is that a legitimate concern of yours?" he asks, not even bothering to point out the fact that Gavin himself has already has met him once while sober. Even if it was only for about two minutes before he started getting drunk himself.

"Maybe."

"You’d finally be meeting your long distance relationship in real life, and not drunk off your ass, and the only thing you’re worried about is how blurry I’ll be?"

"Is it really a long distance relationship when we’ve already met and slept together?"

"I think a long distance relationship is defined as just being a long distance away from one another."

"I meant the type where you haven’t really met yet in real life and just talk over text message."

"Well, we’ve both met and slept with one another on numerous occasions."

"We were also drunk off of our asses each time."

"Yeah. Um, I think it really depends on if what you think we have is a relationship."

"Do  _you_  think it is?”

"I asked you first."

Gavin groans and sounds as though he’s burying his face into his pillow. “Why are you so difficult?”

"We’re both difficult. It’s what makes us such a good couple… erm,  _team_.”

There’s a beat of silence before Gavin let’s out a hum of amusement. “You called us a couple.”

"Slip of the tongue."

"I can think of somewhere your tongue can slip."

"Gavin."

"What?! We’re a  _couple_. I’m allowed to say stuff like that.”

At the term of affection, both boys go silent. The tiny smiles on their faces say it all, and they just allow their hushed childish giggles do all of the talking.

"We’ve _really_ gotta meet one day,” Gavin murmurs, “Like, sober.”

"Yeah. Although, I do quite enjoy our drunken sexual escapades."

"Me too, but I imagine it’s just as great when we aren’t drunk."

"I bet it’s even better."

"It would be nice to actually go out on an date or something too…" Gavin murmurs, not intending his words to actually be heard through the loud yawn he let’s out. Michael catches it though, and smirks.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing." He can almost visualize Gavin shrugging nonchalantly as he lays down in his bed, covers pulled up to his chin and cell-phone pressed to his ear. It’s a cute mental image, and he has to resist the urge to ask Gavin to send a picture. That might just be a little  _too_  weird.

"We can go on a date if you want, dude."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I’m all for it."

"Okay. That’d be cool."

"Did you think this was just going to be a friends-with-benefits type situation?"

"Well, yes, but I was hoping it would eventually turn into a Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher type deal."

"Where we bang mercilessly and then realize we’re in love with one another at the end?"

"I don’t actually know, I’ve never really seen the movie."

"Neither have I, but just judging by the trailers, I’m assuming that’s how it went down."

"We’ll have to have a Netflix date and watch it together."

"Sounds good."

"Then we could shag on the couch during the credits."

"Sounds even better."

"This is the beginning of a very beautiful… relationship? Like, a real relationship?"

"Whatever you want it to be."

"Do you want to  _actually_  be boyfriends? Like, officially?”

"Yeah. Sure, of course. If you’re cool with it."

"I just asked you, of course _I’m_  cool with it.”

"Just making sure! But yes, let’s be official boyfriends then."

"Excellent. Give me one moment." There’s silence from the other line, but only for a few moments, before Gavin returns with an "Alright, I’m back."

Michael raises an eyebrow and snickers. “Did you just change my name in your phone to  _'Boyfriend'_.”

"Maybe."

"That’s cute."

"What’s my name in your phone?"

"Eh, it’s a revolving cast. Never stays one name for long, but I don’t think any of them have been particularly kind or favorable.”

"What is it right now?"

"Personal favorite,  _‘_ The British are Coming _’_.”

"You’re awful."

"You like me."

"I do."

Michael smiles, “You should probably try to get some sleep. It’s late.”

"It is," Gavin agrees, paired with another loud yawn.

"Goodnight, Gav."

"G’night, boyfriend."

"Are you going to call me that all of the time?"

"It  _is_  name in my phone.”

"Oh yeah? Guess what yours is," he asks, mockingly, before singing out, " _The British are coming! The British are coming!_ ”

"You’re an arse."

"Don’t worry. I’ll change it for next time. Then when you send me a good morning text  _tomorrow_  it will have a sweet name next to it instead of things about the Britain’s and their comings.”

"Good morning text? Are we one of  _those_  couples? You do realize it will be morning there when you land, and I will be nowhere near ready to wake up and read it.”

"It’s the thought that counts."

"Give me a nice name in your phone, asshole."

"I don’t think I should when you’re calling me things like that."

"Fine. Please change my name in your phone, lovely boyfriend that I adore."

"Okay. How does ‘ _Bang Face_ ' sound?”

"Michael."

"Alright! Alright! Fine. I changed it to something nice."

"What is it?"

"I’m not telling you. That’s between me and my phone."

"Nob. Also, we said goodnight five minutes ago but we kept talking."

"We need to get better about that."

"Goodnight. For the last time. You need sleep."

"And you need to get on a plane."

Michael groans, “Don’t remind me.”

"Text me when you get off, alright?"

"Of course."

"Goodnight, Michael. Safe travels."

He smiles, “Goodnight, Gav. Sweet dreams.”

***

All Michael wants to do when he gets home today is to collapse on his couch and have a nap so long that every single toddler in the world would be jealous.

Filming and editing three Rage Quits in a row, doing the voice acting for an episode of RWBY, being a guest on both the RT Podcast and The Patch, and then having to record Achievement Hunter Let’s Play’s ontop of that?

He feels like he’s about ready to pass out.

There wasn’t even enough time to text Gavin all day, which is shitty because ever since this whole thing between them has started, they’ve texted each other pretty much everyday. Regardless of if it was just a simple two text exchange, or a full blown conversation that lasted hours.

And now that he’s home, it’d feel weird to go to sleep without messaging him with even a hello. It isn’t like he’s that  _tired_  anyways, just physically drained. Just laying sprawled out on his couch is enough to rest his exhausted body at this point.

 **Michael Jones:** Hey. Sorry things have been so quiet today, work was busy.

 **British Asshole:** It’s cool, I’ve been pretty busy today too.

 **Michael Jones:**  Oh yeah? With what?

 **British Asshole:** Just stuff, you busy nose

 **Michael Jones:** Oh please, don’t get all mysterious on me now

 **British Asshole:** You didn’t tell me what you did with your oh-so-busy day!

 **Michael Jones:** I literally just worked nonstop. I’m pretty sure I’m not gonna have a functioning voice by tomorrow.

 **British Asshole:**  Yes, it must be so challenging and hard to play video games for a living ;)

 **Michael Jones:** I will shove that winky face up your ass.

 **Gavin Free:** ;) ;) ;)

 **Michael Jones:** You are asking for trouble.

 **Gavin Free:** I always am ;)

 **Michael Jones:**  Next time you come to America, I am going to kick your ass.

 **Gavin Free:** I can’t wait.

 **Michael Jones:**  And kiss you. A lot of that too.

 **Gavin Free:**  Now I’m even more excited.

There’s a knock on his door, interrupting him from finishing and sending his next text message.

Thankfully since he’s alone in the house, he’s able to let out the loudest groan of annoyance possible. Unfortunately, being alone also means that  _he_ has to be the one to answer the door. He can’t even just yell at them to come in because he’d lock the door in preparation of relaxation time.

It couldn’t be anybody other than Lindsay. She’s the only other person he knows that lives in this apartment building. Right now, he’d totally be up for watching shitty Netflix movies and just resting on her comfortable couch with no plans to do anything for the rest of the day.

He picks himself up off of the couch only when there’s another knock on the door, this time slightly louder.

"I’m coming!" he yells out, and then repeats to himself more quietly, "I’m fucking coming."

He opens the door, and it’s Gavin standing there.

It’s  _actually_  Gavin.

Stood in front of him in all of his lanky British glory. Right down from the mismatched flag converse shoes, to the large nose and naturally messy bedhead hairstyle. He even has his cell-phone in his hand, still displaying a text message screen which he can only assume is between the two of them.

It’s hard to believe that it’s actually him. Especially when he’s exhausted from a hard day at work and just spent the last few minutes laying on his couch. What if he’s asleep right now? What if he’s dreaming.

"Gavin?" he wants to confirm, resisting the urge to reach forward and actually touch the guy.

His entire face must have dropped in shock upon opening the door because Gavin’s tiny smile turns even more anxious and nerve-filled. He nods the slightest amount, “Michael.”

"Hey," Michael says, somewhat breathily, unable to look anywhere other than Gavin’s eyes once he’s met them.

A small smile spread across his face, and he lifts an arm to give the tiniest wave. “Hey,” he says back.

"W-what are you doing here? How are you not in England right now?"

"Work visa," Gavin shrugs, but his eyes are shining, "I am officially living in the United States now."

"And you didn’t think to tell me?"

"Figured it would be fun to surprise you. Knew that you wouldn’t be able get away from me just by jumping on a plane to Jersey. I actually  _live_  here now.”

Michael just nods, feeling like such an idiot for the slack-jawed expression that he can’t seem to erase from his face. But Gavin is here. In front of him. Not just text on a cell-phone screen or a pretty face on a YouTube video. Not even standing in front of him with a dazed look in his eyes and drunken ecstasy on his face.

"Uh, how drunk are you right now?" Michael asks.

The small smile stretches into an amused grin, “Not a bit. How about you?”

He just shakes his head, unable to communicate using actual words at the moment.

Gavin lets out a laugh, “Are you okay?”

Michael can’t stop himself from getting jokingly annoyed, “You’re a complete asshole. You come here in person and surprise me with the fact that you’re here and live in America and you expect to do open the door and  _not_  be shocked into silence?”

"No, I expected it," he smirks, "I’m just also extremely amused by-"

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Michael takes a step forward, grabs him by the sides of the face, and pulls their lips together.

Anytime that they've kissed before was filled with alcohol soaked lips, drunken desire, and the need to get as much clothing off as possible. It would result in bruised lips, hungry moans, and would end with passionate but sloppily drunk sex.

But this kiss cannot be described with any word other than sweet. It’s filled with relief, and happiness, and more joy than Michael knows what to do with. It’s a You’re-actually-here-in-front-of-me kiss. An I’m-so-happy-to-see-you kiss. An I-don’t-really-want-to-let-you-go-anytime-soon-now-that-you’re-finally-with-me kiss. Along with _so_  many other things that Michael wouldn’t be able to explain with words, and he’s so relieved that he’s able to communicate it now through a more physical means. Talking and text messages are overrated when compared to actually getting to feel Gavin’s soft and warm lips against his.

When they finally move away from one another, they can’t even find it within themselves to take a step back. Their foreheads and noses practically touching as they stand in the archway of his apartment door. Gavin inhales a deep breath and nods his head before letting out a shaky, “Hi.”

Michael wants to mock him, but his own laughter comes out shaky and unstable. “Hi again.”

That seems to snap Gavin out of it slightly. He finally takes a step back and shakes his head as though to brush the sappy moment out of the air. “So,” he states, physically shoving Michael aside to walk into the apartment. “Where are your video games? Because I’m pretty sure when we first texted I made a promise that I would kick your ass in whatever you wanted to play.”

Every fear or worry that Michael’s had about them being anything less than perfect for one another while sober is completely washed away. He scolds himself for being so idiotic and stubborn in the past few months, but also strangely grateful for his own stupidity because it made this reunion so much sweeter.

Maybe he and Gavin won’t work out. Who knows? They might end up hating each other, or they might end up better off as friends. They could spend the rest of their lives playing video games, telling stupid jokes, and having actually-sober sex with one another.

Michael doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care. Things are a lot easier when you’re just going with the flow and worrying more about the person in front of you than what the future will hold.

So, he laughs, reaching forward to close the door to his apartment before making his way to join his no-longer-long-distance British boyfriend in the living room.

"You’re on, asshole. Prepare to have your ass handed to you."


End file.
